The Conqueror
by seraph orion black
Summary: One man's life ends at the hands of the veil but his legacy is entwined in the fate of every witch and wizard. The story of the infamous serial killer 'Harry James Potter' as told by his boy-who-lived brother Aaron Charles Potter
1. Chapter 1

**The Conqueror**

**By**

_**Seraph Orion Black**_

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Though, I might have copied this disclaimer from someone.

I AM SORRY FOR THAT.

**Author Notes: **To all my readers, I want to thank you for the support for my fics and apologise for my abrupt departure from writing fanfiction. Recently, I've been diagnosed as a schizophrenic – though its only in a mild form. I've been getting some medication and some much needed therapy to digest this news. I'm back now and the first thing I'm doing is starting to fix my stories.

**This is a rewrite of my fanfic named 'THE KING'**

**Warning:** This story is semi-canon compliant meaning there will be some similarities with the original story but there will also be some pretty big differences. For one, Harry is NOT the boy-who-lived, his younger brother Aaron is. James and Lily are alive and they have had some more kids. Also, Harry was born in 1976. That makes him four years older than Rowling's original version.

Everything that happened to Harry in the canon – saving the philosopher's stone, defeating the basilisk - everything happens to Aaron. Aaron will be the representation of the Rowling's Harry with the saving people thing and an all-around shy, angsty, brooding personality. Harry in this story will be different from the original series and most of the fanfic out there. He won't be angsty, clueless or lovey-dovey. He is raised by a marauder and grew like a marauder. He will be powerful magically – a prodigy, but none of those gaining insane powers and intelligence overnight nor rituals that only HE can find in Flourish and Blotts. Harry will be smart right from the start. BUT Aaron Potter is the boy-who-lived and WILL be the defeater of Voldemort.

The story will have similarities with the original story up until the end of Order of the Phoenix. It will start deviating from the original from the Half-Blood Prince onwards.

**Warnings:** Mild bashing of possibly every character in the story, including Harry himself. Rated M for harsh language, violence and implied sex.

Harry's story is completely different from canon simply because he is four years older. So no best friends with Ron and Hermione, no soul-bonding or whatever with Ginny Weasley.

**Just in case:**

On the first of September, 1991,

_Harry Potter – 14 years old about to turn 15 _

_Aaron Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger - 11 years old_

_Chloe and Sophie Potter – 9 years old_

_Andrew Potter – 7 years old_

_Cassandra Potter – 2 1/2 years old_

_Nymphadora Tonks - 17 years old_

_Fleur Delacour- 14 years old_

**Chapter 1**

**4****th**** August 2012**

**Cairanne Village, Rhone Valley, France**

The area surrounding the village of Cairanne has been inhabitated for over four thousand years and has a fabulous history of winemaking. The area produces some of the best wine of the Rhone valley. It was home to several winemaking families of the Rhone Valley.

In a cottage a couple of miles outside the village, a small such winemaking family sat at the table having breakfast – not just any family but a family of witches and wizards. The man was a tall red-head with long hair and dragon fang earrings. His wife was tall, blonde and ethereally beautiful. Two kids were also sat between their parents. The eldest was a girl of four years while the youngest was nearly two.

There was a comfortable silence that lingered in the air as they ate their breakfast each one musing about the ahead of them, which was only punctuated by the clinking of china. The silence was broken by an owl which flew in through the window carrying the newspaper from England. The man, originally from England, had moved to France to be with his family. He loved his new adopted country and accepted it and its culture wholeheartedly but still bought the British papers to keep in touch with his home country.

He looked up to see his wife pay the owl and retrieve the paper and grinned. Despite his wife's protests about Britain, she still competed with him to see who got to read the paper first every day. Looks like she wins today, the man thought as he returned to his cereal.

CRASH!

The sound of shattering china and glass startled him as he looked up sharply at his wife in concern. She didn't seem to have noticed that she had dropped her tea cup or that the noise had scared their daughters as she was staring at the papers in shock. He quickly calmed his crying daughters down and ushered them to the living room and brought out the dolls for them to play. He then rushed into the kitchen to see that the paper had fallen off his wife's hands and she was staring blankly at the wall.

"Fleur, what is it?! Are you alright?!"

Fleur Delacour-Weasley didn't respond to her husband's questions. Her mind was still whirling from the headlines of the Daily Prophet

_**HARRY POTTER SURRENDERS!**_

_**CONFESSES TO NINETEEN MURDERS! EXPECTED TO RECEIVE THE DEMENTOR'S KISS!**_

Bill seeing that he was not getting any reaction from his wife snatched the crumpled paper from the floor and read the news with just as much shock. Looking up, he could see Fleur sobbing silently and his heart broke a little. A stray thought entered his mind for a moment making him wonder if Fleur ever loved him as much as she loved Harry Potter.

Everyone knew the history between Harry and Fleur and the disastrous ending to it. When Bill had started dating Fleur, he had convinced himself that she was over Harry. When he proposed marriage to her, he didn't have a shred of doubt in his mind that Fleur loved him. However, living with the woman for nearly ten years had taught him that Fleur was a woman of unknowable depths and that no matter what she said or did, a part of her heart would always belong to Harry.

Banishing his musings aside, Bill gathered his wife and started preparing for a journey back to Britain. After all, it didn't matter whether Fleur loved him more than Harry or not, he loved her and right now, she needed his unconditional support and that is what she would get.

**17th September 2012**

**Ministry of Magic, London**

The crowd in the chamber – most of them members of the Order of the Phoenix – stopped their hushed conversation and looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. The chamber they were seated in was one of the old unused court-rooms that were opened only on some very special occasions, like today. The only reason the Minister agreed to open the room for this occasion was because it was the farthest from the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and consequently escape.

Four aurors filed in to the room and took flanking positions at the entrance of the room with their wands drawn and ready to fire curses at a moment's notice. Some people absently noticed that the aurors were at full alert even though there was supposed to be absolutely no means of escape for the prisoner.

The first indication of arrival of the prisoner was that the temperature in the room started to drop making people draw their cloaks and shawls tighter around themselves. Then bad memories surfaced in the minds of the gathered, mostly from the recently ended war, meaning only one thing – Dementors. Anyone with the capability, started strengthening their occlumency shields to ward off the effect of those foul beasts but only a couple were successful doing so. Several people could be seen whimpering as bad memories started assaulting their conscious minds again and again. Memories of death, pain and torture – courtesy of living through a war with Voldemort played over and over again. Soon enough, two dementors glided into the chamber with the prisoner in between them. Gasps rose among the crowd as they saw the prisoner - for some it was the first time they were seeing him in nearly a decade.

Instead of the broken, whimpering bag of flesh and bones that they were expecting, the prisoner stood tall and regal, looking around him with a slight sneer on his once handsome face. He was wearing the same dirty rags he was provided in Azkaban which looked frayed and barely covered his huge frame. His hair was a mess as ever and he had a short scruffy beard making his appearance look ragged. Standing proudly at six foot four inches and weighing at nearly two hundred and fifty pounds, he cut a very impressive figure for a person who had spent more than a month in Azkaban. He had lost a bit of weight in his time in Azkaban but even then the crowd could see the rippling muscles in his arms and chest while he moved with the grace of a warrior. He was shackled around both the wrists and ankles and chained to the dementors. There were also silver armbands with runes glowing an eerie black around both his wrists meaning his magic was bound.

His emerald green eyes, the ones he shared with his mother and siblings scanned everyone in the room with an inherent superiority that had been his trademark. More than a few amongst the crowd flinched as they felt the icy glare pass right through them. One thing was clear - though he was the one standing right in between them, Harry James Potter was one of the very few that was not visibly affected by the dementors. Despite being shackled physically and magically and with a couple of dementors at his side to boot, no one could deny the imposing personality of the man in front of them and some of them couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down their spine as they remembered the last time they saw him.

The dementors led him to the centre of the room where he was shackled to a chair. Harry didn't say anything as he sat in the chair with as much grace as a king sitting in his throne. The dementors seemed to linger around, unsure of what to do next. Harry's glance swept over the spectators for a final time before resting on the dementors. His features formed a small frown before he hissed, "What are you pieces of filth still doing here?" As the dementors still seemed to want to linger, his features melted into a furious glare as he bellowed, "BEGONE!"

Everyone in the chamber jumped at his thunderous tone and the aurors raised their wands in alarm before realising that the prisoner was still restrained and could do nothing to harm anyone even if he wanted to. However, much to the amazement and surprise of the spectators, and horror of the aurors, the dementors turned and fled the room as fast as possible.

Harry's cold green eyes scanned the crowd one more time before he spoke out, "What do we have here?" he sneered, "Why was I disturbed from my rest and brought here? I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to see anyone?" His eyes scanned over everyone as if daring them to reply. The spectators looked at each other unsure of how to respond to his question. His family had come today to find some peace with him that they hadn't been able to do in a long time. But they didn't expect such venom in his voice as he addressed them. His eyes finally settled on his parents who were crying silently in a corner of the room looking at him with a desperate hope and he asked, "Or are you all that interested in seeing me die? Where is the old bastard Dumbledore? I thought he would be the first in line to tell me how much of a disappointment I am? He is not here? Hmmm, fancy that."

Lily broke down completely, sobbing hysterically and slumped to the floor. James, on the other hand, looked like a ghost - pale and shaking, unable to form a response. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd broke into a cacophony of yells and shrieks of indignations as few people started shouting at him. After a minute or two, Harry couldn't take it anymore and he yelled, "SILENCE!"

As if by magic, the entire gallery fell silent, fully aware of what Harry was capable of. After all, Harry had turned brutality into an art-form and he had made sure that nobody would be forgetting him any time soon. He turned his head to the aurors flanking the door and called out, "Call the dementors back, you bastards. I am done here. I do not wish to see anyone anymore. NOW"

One of the newbie aurors nodded dumbly and ran out of the room to fetch the dementors not even realising that he was taking orders from a prisoner.

"Harry", a tentative voice called from the crowd.

Harry's eyes scanned the crowd taking in all of them who were present. It was a motley mixture of the young and the old - aurors, healers, teachers and civilians. His attention however went to the Potters, Lupins, and the Weasleys seated at front. His glare landed on the one who had addressed him. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin was sitting next to her husband holding his hand looking at her former best friend.

The auror's usual bubblegum pink hair was gone. She had dull brown hair that seemed to reflect her mood. She was looking at him with regret and sadness tinged with a bit of hope.

Seeing that she had his attention, the woman who still only answered to Tonks said, "The Wizengamot has declared a verdict on your case, Harry. You are sentenced for execution. You are to receive the Dementor's kiss today"

The crowd held their breaths as they waited for Harry to respond. However, he seemed to take no notice that he had heard her. Instead he chose to glare at everyone who dared meet his gaze.

"Harry", Tonks called out a little louder trying to get his attention. Seeing that she was not getting any response from him, she continued, "Since, you surrendered of your own will, the Wizengamot is prepared to reduce the sentence to life imprisonment, if you make a plea of mercy. We have already drafted the plea and Elphias Doge is ready to present your case on your behalf. You just have to-"

"I will not make a plea and I refuse to allow anyone do it on my behalf. I do not need anyone's mercy. The only thing I may take from any of you is a cigarette if you are offering" Seeing the blank stares he was receiving he muttered 'pity' that was heard around the chamber. The abrupt response made Tonks' voice falter but the crowd waited with bated breath as Tonks continued to explain the situation to Harry.

"Harry, the situation is very dire. The Wizengamot is very firm on this issue. They are screaming for your blood. The reason you have been transported from Azkaban to the holding cells is for your execution. If the Wizengamot office does not receive your plea for mercy before four today evening, you will be given the Dementor's kiss and cast into the Veil of death."

"_I know", _the hissed reply was the first one directed towards Tonks who flinched when his glare pinned her to her seat. "I choose death"

At this pronouncement, Lily Potter and her two daughters Chloe and Sophie broke down into sobs while tears started streaming down James and Andrew's faces. The verdict that sentenced Harry to death was not unanticipated but convicted criminal or not, Harry was still family and to hear him accepting his impending death so easily unsettled them. Meanwhile, Aaron Potter, the boy-who-lived, the man-who-triumphed was standing in the shadow watching the proceedings with an emotional detachment that was unnatural. However, for the first time in years, no one paid any attention to him.

Harry looked at Tonks, who had her head bowed unable to face him anymore, and answered, "I knew this would be my fate before I surrendered. I am not afraid of death."

Hermione Granger-Weasley who was sitting next to her family spoke up, trying to placate Harry. "It is understandable that you feel responsible for your actions. But, it is not necessary to give up your life to satisfy the guilt you are facing. The fact that you are feeling sorry for your crimes itself is punishment enough."

"Feel-feeling SORRY?"

Then Harry did something totally unexpected. He burst out laughing.

Not a sarcastic mocking one but a genuine bellowing uncontrollable laughter that had him shaking in his chair and tears running down his face.

"Yo- you think I surrendered because I felt guilty?"

Seeing Hermione's flushed face, Harry continued trying to rein in his laughter.

"I do not feel guilty, you silly woman. Why should I feel guilty for doing something that I relish?" asked Harry with a feral grin, his eyes glittering with an unholy twinkle.

"Th- then why?" asked a meek Hermione.

"Fame"

Seeing that the crowd didn't understand what he was saying, Harry chose to elaborate. "Even though I loved killing all those people, I felt something was missing, you know. I figured out eventually that even though people read about these horrific murders in the newspapers, they don't know who is doing them. That makes the whole thing look impassionate. They read about it in the papers, feel sorry or horrified for a few minutes and then go on with their lives. It takes the pleasure out of killing people."

Shivers ran down the spines of people as Harry Potter continued describing his reasons for surrender with relish.

"But the moment, they are able to put a face to these deaths, the whole thing becomes so real. Every detail becomes terrifyingly clear. They feel fear. Terror. Admit it, each and every one of you in this room felt that terror when you found it was really me. I know. I can practically smell the fear in the air. This chamber reeks of it"

The assembled crowd looked down collectively. He was not wrong. Nowadays, the name Harry Potter terrified people in ways that only Lord Voldemort was able to do. The way he relished every word he spoke, the fervor in his manner while talking about death and the unholy enthusiasm that was palpable around him did render a terrifying image. The very image of a psychopath who was unrepentant.

"Now, every time a wizard raises a wand to harm another, he will stop for a moment to think about me. Everytime those pureblood wankers talk about blood purity, he will think he could have been my next victim. The horrific expressions on those carcasses will seem real – more horrific. That is what I wanted. Fear will reside in your hearts long after my death. It will be my legacy. The next time some stuffed peacock wants to strut around bossing everyone around because his parents were inbreeding pureblood maniacs, just mutter my name."

"I know a lot of death eaters raked up a larger body count than me. Nineteen murders don't sound impressive in paper, but all of you can feel a terror that only Voldemort could achieve. And let's face it. I was much more imaginative in every way possible." The twisted grin on Harry's face as he talked was scarier than the dementors that had entered the chamber.

"Then again, you could ask me, why does he choose death? Why doesn't he make a plea of mercy and live out his life in prison? Is it pride? Or perhaps he is afraid of Azkaban?"

Harry's glare passed over the crowd once more before it landed on James Potter who struggled to meet his gaze. "It's simple. The urge to utterly decimate the world is too high. I am unstoppable. I am way too powerful and intelligent to be contained by your pathetic aurors and dementors. If I choose prison, my bloodlust will eventually overwhelm me and I will destroy everything. Your prison cells, magic inhibitors and shackles won't be able to contain my fury."

The auror who had left to fetch the dementors brought out the chains to bind Harry again. The crowd watched with fear and awe as the aurors attached Harry's shackles to the dementors and allowed the beasts to lead him out of the chamber. Harry didn't protest but allowed the aurors to do their duty.

At the door, Harry turned towards the crowd where Lily Potter was trying desperately to catch a last glimpse at her eldest. The son who had just over six hours to live. She could utter only one thing over and over again, "Please Harry. Please"

"Kill me when you have the chance. Kill me before I change my mind. Or you will regret it. That I can promise"


	2. Chapter 2

**The Conqueror**

**By**

_**Seraph Orion Black**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter – storyline, characters or pretty much anything that earned JKR millions. I am merely twisting her story to how I see fit.

**Chapter 2**

**17****TH**** September 2012**

**Ministry Holding Cell,**

**Ministry of Magic, London**

Albus Dumbledore stood outside the Courtroom ten, leaning against the wall, contemplating the verdict that he knew was being passed inside the courtroom. It was a foregone conclusion that Harry Potter would be given the Dementor's kiss and the Wizengamot gathering was just a formality to ensure all protocols were followed. There were some members of the Order of the Phoenix who still believed that Harry could make some sort of plea bargain for life in Azkaban instead of Death. Dumbledore barely contained the quasi-amused snort that threatened the somber mood of the courtroom corridor. The Wizengamot who were notorious for engaging in such practices for fellow purebloods, would never entertain a notion like that when it concerned Harry. The very idea of Harry living long enough to eventually escape Azkaban would mean that behind closed doors they were baying for his blood.

Dumbledore himself had been a member of the Wizengamot for the better part of five decades and knew exactly what was happening during the trial. The members of the Wizengamot were in full attendance to make sure of the demise of the young man – the one who had both the means and sheer vindictiveness to expose the power-hungry tyranny of the Wizengamot and its members. Albus himself knew of a couple of members who secretly advocated the dead Dark Lord Voldemort's philosophy, now inside the chamber casting their votes. If left to survive, Harry would oppose them and unlike Albus, he would go to any lengths to destroy them.

The public had believed that with the demise of Voldemort, all their problems have been solved and that the government would usher in a golden age for Wizard-kind. Little did the masses know about the problems one faced while dealing with the people who managed to cling onto power despite the war. Their families had lorded over the magical world under the guise of democracy for centuries and were reluctant to let themselves be replaced by newer, more liberal members. With the boy-who-lived and later dubbed man-who-conquered Aaron Potter being a respected and loyal auror to the ministry and with Dumbledore retiring, the only major obstacle in their way was currently being judged and will shortly be disposed of.

Little did they know that in their haste to get rid of Harry, several startling and groundbreaking truths would be buried with him. They had thought that their continued rule over Wizarding Britannia was unchallenged henceforth had no idea what was going to happen with the death of the Potter heir.

The door opened and a hush silence filtered out to the corridor where Dumbledore was waiting. Eight aurors stepped out of the courtroom flanking their prisoner. Harry was bound in chains and trussed up and led out of the room and ushered towards the Department of Mysteries.

The sight very nearly brought tears to Dumbledore's eyes. He and Harry had never seen eye to eye on several issues but he still considered the young man to be a grandson he never had and the premature loss of his life would forever weigh on his soul.

Harry's eyes lit up when he saw Dumbledore standing on the way to the Execution Chamber in the Department of Mysteries.

"Great day, isn't it, Dumbledore?" a cheerful Harry cackled at him looking positively unhinged but Dumbledore was not fooled. A month in Azkaban and periodic exposure to Dementors would do considerable damage to the mind of a normal wizard but not to someone like Harry. In the public eye, Harry had been insane for a long time but Dumbledore knew Harry enough to know that things were never the same with him. His unhinged act had fooled everyone to never question the reasons beyond the crimes he was accused of but Dumbledore could see clarity behind the crazed eyes. Harry was aware of everything happening around him and more importantly it seemed he was expecting it. Once again, he wondered where Harry had learnt to so easily manipulate everyone around him.

Dumbledore ignored Harry for the moment and followed the aurors into the detention room just off the Courtroom ten. He moved to have a whispered conversation with the auror in-charge. After a couple of minutes of heated arguments, the auror scowled and signaled to the other members of his team. Within seconds, the chains binding Harry were attached to the chair restricting the movements of the incarcerated wizard. The aurors moved a few feet away but had their wands drawn. The lead auror nodded at his team and turned to Dumbledore mouthing _'two minutes'_

Dumbledore moved closer to Harry and for the first time in years took a good look at him. The sight of a once-promising child bound in chains like this mere minutes away from a fate worse than death played heavily on his mind but he ruthlessly squashed those thoughts. A small part of Dumbledore would always feel guilty for the fate that awaited the young man but another part of him was glad that the world would never have to see the worst of Harry James Potter again.

"Thought you forgot about me, old man!" the cackling and mocking tone of voice startled him. A couple of flicks of his wand raised some powerful privacy shields and Dumbledore turned to see the man before him.

"Drop the act, Harry, you are not fooling anyone anymore" Dumbledore's voice betrayed tiredness and weariness. Once under the privacy charms, Harry's countenance changed in a second. The intensity in his glare impaled Dumbledore to the spot.

"Do you have any cigarettes, Dumbledore?" Harry asked looking at the older man wanting to hear the man lecture him once again about the health hazards of tobacco just for old times' sake.

Dumbledore couldn't contain the small smile as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a whole packet of smokes that Harry seemed to favor. Ignoring the slightly shocked look on Harry's face, he gestured to the watching aurors before giving Harry one and lighting it for him.

"Dumbledore, sometimes you are not such a bad guy" Harry muttered.

He took one long drag of the cigarette allowing the taste of tobacco to hit him savoring it after almost a month and then turned to Dumbledore "Save your repentance speech for someone who cares, old man. I won our little game."

Dumbledore sighed in defeat, "I never considered anything between us to be a game, Harry. In any case, I would have gladly conceded any game had you but asked so that we wouldn't have had to be in this situation. Even so, there is no victory in death"

Harry snorted in morbid amusement, "Maybe not. But there sure is victory in the legacy I will leave behind."

"A legacy you have made sure no one will ever learn about" Dumbledore countered with an annoyed sigh.

Harry snorted again in derision. "I care not about what people would think of me as you know very well. But my legacy will be upheld by a lot of people whether they know it or not. You have yet to understand, Dumbledore what I mean when I say that History is written by victors. Today despite my rather unfortunate impending demise I am a victor and I will rewrite the history of this inept government once and for all"

"An admirable sentiment, Harry, one, I believe, could have been fought in a completely legal forum and avoided all this bloodshed. If you had done so, I would have gladly stood behind you and been your number one supporter. No, what you have done is not rewrite history. You have sown the seeds for a social war only that will continue to destroy lives in ways Lord Voldemort did not"

Harry's laughter shook the corridor or it would have if not for the silencing ward around the two of them. "Even after a hundred or so years, you are still naïve. You call it war, I call it renaissance. Sometime in the future, the public will start asking questions politicians cannot answer. People will fight for transparency in Government policy. All I have done is hasten it"

"Consistent campaigning would have done it more effectively than homicide, I believe" Dumbledore countered

"Only actions can be punished Dumbledore not intentions. The public cannot fight what it does not know. The entire issue is a grey area – one you and your idiotic followers would fight to your death and still fail. You waited, I acted. Our methods might be different but we fought or should I say still fight a common enemy. You missed your chances but I created my own. You lost I won. A glorious future lies ahead for this country at my expense. Go forth and enjoy it, Dumbledore"

Dumbledore sighed, "There is no point in arguing anymore. I bid you farewell, Harry. I may not agree with your methods but I will not expose you or your brethren for I do believe we fight a common enemy – the darker side of our heart's desire. However, I cannot stay and watch your manipulations fool the public any longer and watch further bloodshed in the name of clarity."

An auror rushed into the room brushing past the aurors to speak to the auror captain not noticing Albus Dumbledore.

"Sir, the Minister asked to inform that there has been an emergency and he will send his Senior Undersecretary in an hour to oversee the execution." The rookie auror panted as he gave a scroll containing an official message from the Minister.

The auror captain's mood darkened. He did not like to be put in such situations but he had orders to follow and didn't have a way to show his displeasure. "What happened?" the man barked as he waved his wand over the parchment authenticating the order.

"There was a fire in the Parkinson Manor, sir. It is believed that all the occupants of the house are now dead. The press is there in full force and questioning if it was an accident or a pre-planned murder. The Minister is going there to personally investigate. He is sending Officials to stand in his place during the execution."

Dumbledore could lie and say he was shocked but he couldn't. Fighting Voldemort had been much easier. Dumbledore knew that despite spending the past month in Azkaban under the watchful eyes of the Dementors and aurors, Harry was somehow the architect behind those deaths and he also knew not even the most stupid of wizard would believe him if he tried to tell them.

With the end of the major dark families in the war against Voldemort, the Parkinsons were at the forefront of the Pureblood agenda though Alfred Parkinson was noticeably less vocal than his predecessors. The Parkinsons were one of the major proponents during Harry's earlier trials. Usually, such a death would put the blame on Harry or his family but all of them had been at the Ministry for the entire day for Harry's final trial. Every one of Harry's family, friends and associates had rock solid alibi. The young man couldn't have planned it anymore perfectly.

As he looked back at the man, Albus could see Harry smiling – the first genuine smile he had seen on his face in a long time. Dumbledore shook his head – his time was up. Maybe he should retire completely and live out the rest of his life far away from this country. The Parkinsons were the last great threat to Harry's plan for Britain's future and now they were undoubtedly dead. Even at deathbed, Harry was slowly establishing control over the country.

"Your work I presume?" Dumbledore whispered at Harry while the aurors started questioning the rookie.

Harry hummed non-committally and replied, "Some old debt owed to me being repaid I would presume"

The nagging feeling Dumbledore had had for years prompted him to ask Harry a question, one which he feared would always haunt him if he didn't.

"Did you ever seriously consider killing me, Harry?"

Normally, such a question would have drawn derision and sarcasm but a momentary lapse in his normal behavior allowed Dumbledore to receive an honest answer. "Many times, Albus, though only as a last resort. However, your continued survival worked for my advantage when it came to fighting Riddle. Now, if you don't mind, can you light another one of those cigarettes? Looks like I might have to hang around for a bit"

Dumbledore conceded to his request as he mulled over Harry's response to his question and that prompted him to ask, "What about now? Tom Riddle is dead and I am no longer useful to you anymore. Should I expect someone to try and kill me in my sleep? I have hindered you and opposed you for years. Are you not going to have revenge?"

Once again Dumbledore was subjected to Harry's mildly insulting laughter. "Do you really think I'm going to have you killed off in revenge, Dumbledore? I have already taken my revenge on you. You are an old man, clearly killing you or torturing you is not worth it. You do not have any family to hurt. But I took from you all that mattered to you. I stole your followers, made your fame insignificant, crippled you physically, forced you to retire and I'm going to rebuild the world while you sit back and realize what an unnecessary old relic you are. There is nothing left to take from you. You are a broken man whether you acknowledge it or not. You will be unable to repay your life-debt to me. You will die in disgrace, forgotten by everyone and that is the worst punishment I can inflict on a man who has enjoyed a fruitful life like you have."

Shaking his head, Dumbledore made his way to the door pausing at the threshold to glance one last time at Harry. With another shake of the head, he headed out of the door mind heavy with doubt if he even knew half of what Harry had at his disposal. He was indeed correct. Harry had won.

Little did he know that a willing surrender was never Harry's plan. However when death chose to pursue you, it was better to walk forward with dignity than claw at the floor to try and escape, a sentiment Dumbledore would have understood.

After Dumbledore left, Harry sat at the desk reminiscing about his life and what he was taking to his grave as he continued smoking his cigarettes. He hoped and prayed that Aaron and the others would keep up their end of the bargain. Slowly, his mind began drifting back to the things he had missed. The last few remaining minutes of his life would be spent taking a trip down memory lane to remember someone special. Someone whose continued presence in his life would have meant that today he could have had a family of his own than counting his last few minutes.

_**Christmas Eve, 1996.**_

_Fleur stepped out of her room and into the living room, where she knew her boyfriend was waiting for her. Her bright silvery blue eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on the figure sitting on the couch, reading the morning's newspaper. Wearing a midnight blue muggle suit with a crisp white shirt and a matching tie, he looked smart and charming, just the way she liked._

_Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet he was reading, to look at Fleur watching him silently with a mischievous smirk on her face. She was dressed in traditional dress robes in sky blue colour that perfectly matched her sparkling eyes and hugged her figure enticingly. Her long silvery blond hair was flowing around her shoulders. There was no make-up on her face as her veela ancestry made sure she didn't need any._

_Harry looked at her impassively for a couple of seconds before complimenting, "You look nice"_

_Fleur raised an eyebrow, imitating one of Harry's mannerisms and asked in a mock-outraged tone, "Nice? Iz zat all you 'ave to say to me? I spend two 'ours of my time, making sure I look ze best for you and you say 'nice'. Harry darling, zis is anozzer lesson in dealing wiz ze ladies. I do not know how you ever managed to get ze dates wiz women. You must learn to pay better compliments to your lady from time to time. Now, are you going to say something romantic to me?"_

_Harry looked a bit amused at her behaviour before stepping closer to her while saying, "I could say you would make an angel feel jealous of your beauty or a full moon looks dull compared to your radiance". He stepped even close to her, invading her personal space, one hand going around her waist and the other cupping her cheek. He continued in a husky, breathy voice, "I could say you make me feel like I am in the presence of divinity", he leaned in closer as if to kiss her on the lips. Fleur closed her eyes breathlessly anticipating a kiss but she was surprised when she felt him pull back a little. She opened her eyes to look curiously at Harry who was smirking at her. Looking at her questioning glance, he said, "But I choose not to. I stand by my earlier statement. You look nice."_

"_Why?" Fleur asked in exasperation, "Just when I feel a little better for training you to be better, you go around and spoil it for me"_

_Harry continued to smirk but eventually replied, "Two reasons, my dear Fleur. One, I might stumble on my words trying to make myself look better in your eyes. I may succeed but I may also fail, if I stutter unable to find praises for you spontaneously. It would make me look so not cool and ruin my reputation"_

"_And ze other?" Fleur asked while looking into his hypnotising green eyes. Harry spoke in his usual calm tone, "Saying something so long wastes my time. The time I could be using for something better. Something like this". With that he bent down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss._

Harry ruthlessly suppressed those memories. Now was not the time for what if's and has-beens. He had made a decision about Fleur that took them in different paths along their lives. The last he had heard about her, she and her husband were living in France raising their kids in peace. He hoped that she found the romance that always craved for.

He knew he had made the right decision. Having Fleur in his life would have mellowed him out. No, Harry James Potter was a force of nature driven by a rage. Mellowing him out would have been a crime. Harry had heard of people who sacrificed everything for love but not him. Love was one of the first things that he would sacrifice when it came to getting his way.

Others did not understand him. They called him, stupid, insane, mentally unstable. Love was just a facet of his life. Harry regretted throwing away his love for Fleur but he knew he would have regretted changing himself for her even more. Only Aaron understood him though only because Harry had told him to accept it without questioning him. Even Aaron, the war-hardened hero himself couldn't understand what Harry was doing by throwing away his life.

_**Seven months ago**_

_Thirty five year old Harry James Potter watched his brother Aaron who was currently pacing in front of the couch he was sitting in. Aaron had finally defeated Lord Voldemort and his death eaters barely a year ago. But right now, his face showed more confusion and fear than he had ever shown in his entire life even when he was fighting one of the most powerful dark lords of all time. All of his fear and confusion was shrouded in a thick veil of perpetual sadness._

_Harry, on the other hand, looked calm, not bothered in the slightest by what was happening. Deciding that Aaron had paced enough, Harry spoke breaking the silence that had prevailed for the past half hour._

"_You know why I have to surrender, Aaron. I can't afford to prolong this."_

_Aaron whirled around and for the first time there was anger in his features. "And what?" spat Aaron, "do you know what those vultures would do to you? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU?"_

"_Yes"_

_The calm answer infuriated Aaron even more but he forcefully shoved his anger away not wanting to show it to the one person whom he owed more than anything in the world._

"_The Wizengamot will no doubt execute me." Harry continued, "They can't let the man who could expose each and every bit of their... 'felonies' to the world. They'll jump at the chance."_

"_Yes!" yelled Aaron in frustration, "they'll kill you. You can't die. Not you. Not like that. After everything you have done, you can't die."_

_Harry stood from the couch and walked out of the room to the balcony overseeing the sea, gazing at the sunset. After a minute of silence, Harry spoke, "But as you already know Aaron, I AM dying already. I am going to die in the next year or so. It's the price I have agreed to pay and death always collects his debts. I'd rather have it happen in my own terms."_

_Aaron walked to stand next to his elder brother and observed him for a minute. When Aaron spoke his voice was in a broken whisper in a mixture of sorrow, fear and hopelessness. "We still have some time, Harry. There must have been something we missed. I know it. You can't survive everything the magical world has thrown at you only to die..."_

_Harry turned to face his brother and saw the hopelessness in Aaron's eyes. Harry sighed in defeat and turned away not wanting to disappoint Aaron any further._

_Aaron still couldn't let his brother go through with the insane plan of his. Resolving his heart once more, he began pleading with him, "Harry, please listen to me. If you go and confess, the Wizarding world will brand you as a villain. A murderer. YOU. ARE. NOT. A. CRIMINAL. The wizarding world should know what you have done for them. For us. For me. You have saved thousands of people from a fate worse than slavery, Harry. We couldn't have defeated Voldemort without you. The people need to know your story. They need to know why we fought this war and what it has cost us. You should be remembered in history as one of the greatest wizards of all time and everyone should respect you. You deserve that. You don't deserve history to remember you as a criminal."_

_Harry spoke without facing Aaron, "Those are the precise reasons I'm going to surrender, kid. Tell me, if people knew what I did, what I was doing, will they see me as their hero or a villain worse than Voldemort? Can you guarantee that I will not be scorned or hated or feared more than anyone else in the wizarding world? My efforts have always bordered on the line of morality. Heck, more than once, I have gone beyond that line to ensure my desires are met. There is no going back; after all I knew this day would come sooner or later, even before I started. All it will take is one person's sense of morality to brand me, and by extension you, a criminal. I can't let them do that to you. It will ruin everything I've ever worked for."_

_Aaron sighed in defeat and turned away not wanting to let Harry see the tears in his eyes. He knew Harry would never approve him showing his weakness to anyone. After a few minutes of silence, Aaron asked, "Tell me again, why I agreed to this madness?"_

_Harry looked at Aaron with a disapproving expression when he saw the younger man having tears in his eyes but refrained from commenting on it. Instead he replied, "Too many people are sniffing around in the wrong places. Eventually the truth will come out in one way or the other. I can't go around cutting off all leads or obliviating them. If it gets out, the peace we worked for can never be achieved. We have to tie all loose ends."_

"_You did. You tied all loose ends", interrupted Aaron._

"_Yes", growled Harry not happy about being interrupted, "but there is still a loose end that has to be tied. The biggest one of them all. Me. Without me, no one can ever connect everything that has happened in the past ten years to you. Hopefully, everyone will go back to thinking that it was all Voldemort's work, as they have until today. If I do this, then Voldemort will be the villain, you will be the hero and I will be the insane psychopath. There will be no reason to pry further."_

"_That still doesn't explain why you have to get killed deliberately. You can always disappear. Stay hidden. At least that way, you won't be branded a criminal."_

_Harry sighed wondering how much more time he would have to spend to convince Aaron to agree to do what he wanted. "Even if I disappear, Aaron, people will eventually dig out my history. I have to invent a new one so that people will see only what I want them to see. I have to give them something to satisfy their curiosity. To hide my other crimes, I will have to confess to nineteen murders. I have to play the crowd, Aaron. People love drama and that is what they are going to get with my surrender. With the drama I am going to generate with my surrender, I am going to kill anyone's curiosity about me and my more important secrets."_

"_What makes you think they won't dig deeper about your life after you surrender?" Aaron asked incredulously._

_Harry looked at Aaron with a small smile of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips, "Give the public and the government what they want and they will never question anything beyond it, Aaron. I thought I had taught you this by now." Shaking his head, Harry continued, "The wizarding population is still a bit dense. Everything depends on my trial, if I receive one. If I make the impression I want on the members of the Wizengamot, they will want me dead as fast as possible. It won't give anyone who wants, the time to investigate me."_

"_After that?" chocked out Aaron_

_Harry smiled a true smile of the whole evening and replied, "I have been making some arrangements for some time. I've already planned for the aftermath and arranged a few things. I plan to spread chaos and disorder among the population from beyond the grave."_

_Seeing Harry smile made Aaron angry than before, "What about our family, damn it? What about Chloe, Sophie and Andrew? What about Tonks? What about the rest of your friends? Do you even care about them?"_

_Harry looked away not wanting to meet Aaron's eyes and asked in a cold voice, "What about them?"_

"_Don't THEY deserve the truth?" spat Aaron angrily, "Don't they deserve to know what you have been doing all these years? Have you ever truly cared about them or are they nothing more than a part of the wonderful plan of yours?"_

_Harry turned and started to walk away from Aaron. Without turning, Harry replied, "No. Its better off that they think of me as a murderer like the rest of the population than knowing the truth. One of my mistakes I've ever regretted in my entire life is bringing you into this twisted underbelly of the wizarding world. They are better off thinking of me as a murderer than learn the truth about me and my world. I've never done anything to them that they would have appreciated, just to show that I do care about them. That they are as important to me as Cassandra was. But circumstances required me to act like I did. If there is one last gift I can give them, it is to make sure they are free from the burden of the true knowledge of my life."_

**End of Flashback**

Harry hoped that Aaron would do what he was asked to do. Because no one but the boy-who-lived could lead the revolution that was to come.


End file.
